How the Phoenix Stole Christmas
by Darev
Summary: Everyone in Alfea love Christmas...everyone that is, but the Phoenix. One night, the Phoenix decides to ruin it for everyone. But things don't go as planned.


Based on the classic Dr. Seuss story. Everyone in Alfea loves Christmas...everyone that is, but the Phoenix. One night, the Phoenix decides to ruin it for everyone, but things don't go as planned.

Disclaimer: Winx Club is a creation of Iginio Straffi and produced by Rainbow S.p.A. "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" is property of Dr. Seuss.

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Everyone down in Alfea liked Christmas a lot. But the Phoenix, who lived just north of Alfea, did not.

The Phoenix hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season. To this day, don't ask why, nobody quite knows the reason.

It could be, perhaps, that his wings were too tight. It could be that his helmet just wasn't screwed on right.

But I think that the most likely reason of all may be that his heart was two sizes too small.

Whatever the reason-his heart or his wings-He stood there on Christmas Eve, hating the Winx.

Staring down from his cave with a sour, skeletal frown, at the warm-lighted windows below in the town.

For he knew that everyone down in Alfea was busy now hanging a Pixie Wreath.

"And they're hanging their stockings," he snarled with a sneer. "Tomorrow is Christmas. It's practically here!"

Then he growled with his bony fingers, nervously drumming. "I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming!"

"Or tomorrow I know all the fairies will wake up bright and early. They'll rush for their toys and then all the Noise! Noise! Oh the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!"

"If there's one thing I hate, it's all the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!"

"And they'll shriek squeaks and squeals, racing round on their wheels. They'll dance with layla-linglers tied onto their wheels."

"They'll blow their musa-mubblers; they'll bang their stella-sinkers. They'll blow their flora-fubbers; they'll bang their bloom-blinkers."

"They'll beat their myrta-mookers; they'll slam their roxy-runkers. And they'll make ear-splitting noises de loox on their great big tecna hoo-cardio-schoox."

"Then those fairies will sit down to a feast."

"And they'll Feast and they'll Feast...and they'll Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast!"

"They'll feast on faragonda pudding and rare griselda-roast beast. Oh, roast beast is a Feast I can't stand in the least."

"And then they'll do something I hate most of all. Every fairy, good and bad, the tall and the small."

"They will stand close together with Christmas bells ringing. They'll stand hand in hand and those Winx will start singing."

"And they'll Sing and they'll Sing and they'll Sing, Sing, Sing, Sing!"

And the more the Phoenix thought to this Alfea-Christmas Sing, the more the Phoenix thought, "I must stop this whole thing."

"Why for Five-Hundred years, I put up with it now. I must stop this Christmas from coming...but how?"

Then he got an idea; an awful idea. The Phoenix got a wonderful, awful idea.

"I know just what to do," the Phoenix laughed in his throat. I'll make a quick Sandy Claus hat and a coat."

He chuckled and clucked. "What a great, dirty trick. With this belt and this hat, I'll look just like St. Nick!"

**You're a mean one, Mr. Phoenix.**

**You really are a heel.**

**You're as cuddly as a cactus.**

**You're as charming as an eel, Mr. Phoenix.**

**You're a bad banana with a...greasy, black peel.**

**You're a monster, Mr. Phoenix.**

**Your heart's an empty hole.**

**Your brain is full of spiders.**

**You've got garlic in your soul, Mr. Phoenix.**

**I wouldn't touch you with a...thirty-nine and a half foot pole.**

"All I need is a reindeer." The Phoenix looked around, but since reindeer were scarce, there was none to be found.

Did that stop the Phoenix? Ha! The Phoenix simply said, "If I can't find a reindeer, I'll make one instead."

So he took his bat Kerbog and he took some black thread, and he tied a big horn on the top of his head.

Then he loaded some bags and some old empty sacks on a ramshackle sleigh, and he whistled for Kerbog.

And the Phoenix said, "Giddyap!" (SNAP)

And the sleigh started down toward the homes where the Winx lay asnooze in their town.

All their windows were dark; no one knew he was there. All the fairies were all dreaming sweet dreams without care, when he came to the first little house on the square.

"This is stop number one," the Dark Phoenix hissed, as he flew to the roof, empty bags in his fists.

Then he slid down the chimney, a rather tight pinch. But if Santa could do it, then so could the fiery-eyed Grinch.

He got stuck only once, for a minute or two. Then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue.

The little Winx stockings hung all in a row. "These stockings," he grinched, "are the first things to go."

Then he slithered and slunk with a smile most unpleasant, around the whole room and he took every present.

Pop guns, pampoonas, pantookas and drums. Checkerboards, bizzel-binks, popcorn and plums.

And he stuffed them in bags; then the Phoenix very nimbly, stuffed all the bags one by one up the chimney.

**You're a vile one, Mr. Phoenix.**

**You have termites in your smile.**

**You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Phoenix.**

**Given the choice between the two of you, I'd take the...seasick crocodile.**

**You're a rotter, Mr. Phoenix.**

**You're the king of sinful sots.**

**Your heart's a dead tomato splotched with moldy, purple spots, Mr. Phoenix.**

**You're a three-decker, sour kraut and toadstool sandwich...with arsenic sauce.**

Then he slunk to the ice box and took the Winx feast. He took the faragonda pudding; he took the roast beast!

Cleaned out the ice box quick as a flash! Why that Phoenix even took the last can of Winx hash.

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney with glee. "And now," grinned the Phoenix, "I will stuff up the tree."

As the Phoenix took the tree he started to shove. Then he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

He turned around fast and he saw a small Winx. Little Bloom Peters who was just entering her twinx.

She stared at the Phoenix and said, "Sandy Claus, why, why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?"

But you know that old Phoenix was so smart and so slick. He thought up a lie and he thought it up quick.

"Why my sweet, little tot," the fake Sandy Claus lied, "there's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear. I'll fix it right up, and then bring it back here."

And this fib fooled the tween; then he petted her head and he got her a drink of water and sent her back to bed.

And when Boom Peters was in bed with her cup, he crept up the chimney and stuffed the tree up.

Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar, and the last thing he took was the log for their fire. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire.

And the one speck of food that he left in the house was a crumb that was even too small for a mouse.

Then he did the same thing to the other Winx houses, leaving crumbs much too small for the other poor mouses.

**You nauseate me, Mr. Phoenix.**

**With a nauseous super nast.**

**You're a crooked jerky jockey and you drive a crooked horse, Mr. Phoenix.**

**The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote: "Stink. Stank. Stunk."**

It was a quarter of dawn; all the Winx still abed, all the Winx still asnooze.

When he packed up his sled; packed up their presents, their ribbons, their wrappings. Their snoof and their fuzzels, their tringlers and trappings.

Ten-thousand feet up, up the side of Mt. Shadowhaunt humming. "They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming."

"They're just waking up; I'll know just what they'll do. Their mouths will hang open a minute or two, and then the Winx down in Alfea will cry 'boo-hoo'."

"That's a noise," grinned the Phoenix," that I simply must hear." He paused and the Phoenix put a hand to his ear.

And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low, and then it started to grow.

But this sound wasn't sad. Why, this sound, sounded glad.

Every fairy down in Alfea, the tall and the small, was singing without any presents at all.

He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming. It came. Somehow or other, it came just the same.

And the Phoenix with his metal feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, "How could it be so?"

"It came without ribbons; it came without tags; it came without packages, boxes or bags!"

He puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore. Then the Phoenix thought of something he hadn't before.

Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, meant a little bit more.

And what happened then? Well in Alfea they say, that the Phoenix's small heart grew three sizes that day.

And then the true meaning of Christmas came through, and the Phoenix found the strength of ten Phoenixes, plus two!

And now that his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright, morning light.

With a smile in his soul, he descended Mt. Shadowhaunt, his spirit no longer emaciated or gaunt.

He rode into Alfea, he brought back their toys. He brought back their floof to their melodious joys.

He brought back their snoof and their tringlers and fuzzels.

He brought everything back, all the food for the Feast. And he, he himself, carved the roast beast.

Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer. Cheer to all Winx far and near.

Christmas Day is in our grasp. So long as we have hands to clasp.

Christmas will always be, just as long as we have we.

Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart and hand in hand.

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Here's Darev wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!


End file.
